They had not gone five yards when he stopped.

“You are limping.  What is it?”

She murmured something about the stones.

“You had better ride,” he decided briefly.  “Rupert will carry you like a lamb.  Ready?  How’s that?”

He lifted her up into the saddle as if she had been a child, and stooped to arrange her foot in the strap of the stirrup.

“Good heavens!” she heard him murmur, as he touched her shoe.  “No wonder the stones seemed hard!  Quite comfortable?” he asked her, as he straightened himself.

“Quite,” she answered meekly.

And he marched on, leading the horse with care.

At the gate of the shadowy little compound that surrounded the bungalow she had quitted so precipitately he paused.

“I will leave the animal here,” he said, holding up his hands to her.

She slipped into them submissively.

The cry of a jackal somewhere beyond the native village made her start and tremble.  Her nerves were still on edge.

Major Baring slipped the bridle over the gate-post and took her hand in his.  The grip of his fingers was very strong and reassuring.

“Come,” he said kindly, “let us go and look for this bogey of yours!”

But at this point Hope realized fully that she had made herself ridiculous, and that for the sake of her future self-respect she must by some means restrain him from putting his purpose into execution.  She stood still and faced him.

“Major Baring,” she said, her voice quivering in spite of her utmost effort, “I want you—­please—­not to come any farther.  I know I have been very foolish.  I am sure of it now.  And—­please—­do you mind going away, and not thinking any more about it?”

“Yes, I do,” said Major Baring.

He spoke with unmistakable decision, and the girl’s heart sank.

“Listen!” he said quietly.  “Like you, I think you have probably been unnecessarily alarmed.  But, even so, I am coming with you to satisfy myself.  Or—­if you prefer—­I will go alone, and you can wait for me here.”

“Oh, no!” said Hope quickly.  “If—­if you must go, I’ll come, too.  But first, will you promise—­whatever happens—­not to—­to laugh at me?”

Baring made an abrupt movement that she was at a loss to interpret.  It was too dark for her to see his face with any distinctness.

“Very well,” he said.  “Yes; I promise that.”

Hope was still almost crying.  She felt horribly ashamed.  With her hand in his, she went beside him up the short drive to the bungalow.  And, as she went, she vehemently wished that the earth would open and swallow her up.

IV

HER NATURAL PROTECTOR

They ascended to the veranda still hand-in-hand.  It was deserted.

Baring led her straight along it till he came to the two chairs outside the drawing-room window.  They were empty.  A servant had just lighted a lamp in the room behind them.